Trusting Jack (8 page)

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Authors: Beth Hale

BOOK: Trusting Jack
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His eyes locked with hers and Emma’s breath hitched.  She couldn’t look away as he leaned closer.  He kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth.  His lips hovered over hers for a moment before he pressed a light kiss on them, then another.

             
Jack’s tongue traced the outline of her lips and

they parted for him.  With a sigh, she sank into the

feeling of his tongue dancing with hers.  Her hands fisted in his shirt and she hummed with pleasure.

             
Jack raised his head and whispered her name.

             
Before either one of them had a chance to recover, there was a bright flash of light.  Startled, Jack looked around and saw a photographer.

             
“Damn it,” he swore.

             
“Who’s the lady, Jack?” The man snapped again, waved his camera.  “Got me a couple of real nice shots.  Is this your new girlfriend?  What’s her name?  How long have you been together?  Does Sarah Reed know you’ve finally moved on?”

             
Jack swore again, and grabbed Emma’s hand.  He pulled her away and they hurried out of the park with the photographer still hurling questions.

 

***

             
Two days later, a picture of Jack and Emma standing against a tree gazing at each other was on the cover of
Now
.

             
“I’m sorry, Emma.”  Jack flung the celebrity tabloid onto the coffee table.  “I forgot where we were, and that the damn press is always looking for ‘news’.”

             
“It’s OK, Jack.  I’m just sorry if it causes you problems.”

             
Norah picked up the magazine.  “At least it’s a good picture.  It’s the price we pay,” she mused, “for choosing this career.”

             
“But y’all are still entitled to privacy!  It’s common damn decency to let someone walk in the park or eat dinner in public without someone shovin’ a camera in their face.”  Emma ran a hand through her hair and noticed Jack grinning at her.  “What?” she wanted to know.

             
“Your accent.  It thickens when you’re upset.”

             
“It always has,” said a deep voice from the doorway.  Emma turned and gave a cry of delight.

             
“Chris!”  She ran towards him and jumped.  He caught her and swung her around before giving her loud kiss. 

             
“You look good,” he told her as he set her back on her feet.

             
She took his hand.  “Jack, this is Chris Roper, Broadway playboy and my best friend.”

             
“Jack.”  Chris extended his other hand.  “It’s great to finally meet you.  I saw you in
Heartbreak House
last year.  I admire your acting.”

             
“Thank you.  Emma speaks of you often.  I’m glad to meet you.”

             
Chris’s eyes landed on the magazine as Norah’s phone rang.  His eyebrows shot up.  “Well, well. Want to catch me up, Emma?”

             
Before she could respond, Norah cursed and threw her phone on the couch.  “That was Thomas.  There’s been a change of plans.  We leave for Falmouth tomorrow.”  She turned and stomped towards the kitchen.

             
Emma sighed.  “Guess we’d better pack.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

             
The brutal days bled into one another as everyone worked frantically.  The weather had finally shifted from hot to chilled, and Thomas was pushing everyone hard.  The scenes were difficult and demanding, and tempers were becoming short. 

Emma was kept busy trying to keep up with Norah’s requests.  The busier she was the more demanding and irritable she became.

              “Damn it, Emma, I said I wanted chamomile tea!  This is jasmine.”  Norah shoved the cup aside.

             
“We’re out of chamomile.  I sent Chris into town for more.”

             
“Maybe
he
won’t fuck up.”  Norah bared her teeth as she stormed around the cottage.  “I didn’t think making a cup of tea would be such a chore for you.”

             
Emma’s patience snapped.  “Look, I know you’re stressed and tired.  I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry we’re out of your tea.  Maybe if you wouldn’t guzzle it like a thirsty fuckin’ camel we wouldn’t run out so often!”  Emma slammed the cottage door.  Norah stared after her.

             
“Still enjoy working for her?” Marcus fell into step with Emma.

             
“Leave me alone,” Emma warned.  “I’m not in the mood.”

             
“You were in the mood to make the cover with Jack Brandon.”

             
Emma stopped.  “That’s none of your business.”

             
“It’s everyone’s business when it’s splashed over the papers.”

             
“Still, that’s between me and Jack.”

             
“When I asked you to lunch I didn’t realize I

had to have a famous name before you’d say yes.”  His brown eyes narrowed and he leered at her.  “Or do you play hard to get with all men at first?”

              “It’s not like that,” Emma said wearily.  “Please, Marcus, just drop it.”  She turned and walked away, leaving Marcus standing alone.

             
Chris returned late in the evening, loaded down with supplies including—praise God—chamomile tea.  Norah pounced on it, and sailed back into the cottage without looking at Emma.

             
“Don’t ask,” Emma told him.  “We’ve had a hard day.”

             
“That’s why I picked up things for a little party tonight.  I thought we could relax for a while.  I cleared it with Thomas before I left.”

             
Jack wondered over.  “That’d be nice,” he said.  He dropped a kiss on Emma’s head.  “Hi.”

             
“Hi, back.”  Emma leaned back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

             
“I bought firewood and booze,” Chris told them.  “Since I’m leaving tomorrow I thought we’d show these Brits how we throw down in Mississippi.”

             
Emma laughed.  “A bonfire, free flowing alcohol, and loud music.  It’s a Southern girl’s dream come true.  I love it.  You’re a freaking genius.”

             
“This is brilliant,” Jack agreed.  “Taking a night is just what we all need, especially since we’re all stressed.”

             
“Some of us more than others,” Emma muttered with a glance at the cottage door she and Norah shared.

 

***

             
As soon as the sun went down, Chris lit the bonfire.  He and Jack pulled the coolers close and turned on the music.  Chris played bartender as people began wondering over.  It wasn’t long before the mood had lightened considerably.

             
“What’s your poison, beautiful?”

             
“Let’s start with a double shot of Jameson and go from there,” Emma said.

             
Chris gave her a mild stare.  “Hitting the hard stuff, huh?”

             
She laughed.  “Just for a few rounds.”  She took the glass and downed the contents.

             
“You have to admire a woman who can take a shot like that.”  Marcus plucked a beer from the cooler and saluted her.

             
“Emma can belt ‘em down,” Chris commented as he watched her slam another one back.  “More?” he asked.

             
Emma shook her head.  “Rum and Coke,” she decided.  She took the glass and went to sit beside Jack and Alison.

             
Everyone was having a great time.  Drinks were flowing, someone turned the music up full blast, and the dancing began.

             
“Let’s go.”  Chris took Emma’s hand and yanked her to her feet.  “We haven’t danced in ages.  Let’s show them how we do it.”

             
Emma laughed and began to two step with him around the fire.  When the music clicked to a classic hard rock tune, she raised her arms in the air, swayed low to the ground and rolled her hips in time with the music.  Chris grinned, then spun her around and rocked his hips against hers.  It’d been a long time since he’d dirty danced with his best friend.

Jack watched Emma sway and bend to the
music.  Desire licked at him; he wanted her in bed.  He was shocked by how much.

When the next song ended, Emma breathlessly reclaimed her seat.  A fresh drink was passed over and she gulped gratefully.

“This is how you party back home?” Alison asked with a grin as she watched.  “Dancing like a loon around a fire?”

             
Emma snorted.  “Sometimes,” she said.  “It’s been a long time since I danced around a fire.”

             
“You looked sexy out there, dancing like that,” Jack whispered and trailed a finger up her jean-clad thigh.

             
Emma slanted her eyes towards him.  She was well on her way to being drunk, and that was helping to boost her confidence.  She opened her mouth to proposition him, and then snapped it closed.  Just a couple more drinks first, she thought, and grinned at him instead.

             
The fire began dying down and Alison stood and stretched.  After saying her goodbyes she headed for her bed. Richard leaned down and whispered in Norah’s ear.  She gave a feline smile and sauntered beside him to his cottage and closed the door.

“Looks like I’ll be bunking with you, mate,” Phillip said good naturedly to Marcus.  Marcus grunted as he watched Jack help Emma to her feet. 

He steadied her and they began walking. Emma

opened the door and turned to face Jack.  Before he

could say anything, she pulled his face to hers and laid

her lips on his.  Instantly responding, he jerked her

tighter against him and deepened the kiss.  They

stumbled inside the door, and he kicked it shut.  He nipped at her lower lip then kissed her again. She shivered.

              Emma broke away and pulled her shirt over her head.  Jack gazed at her red-lace covered breasts before palming them.  He ran his thumbs over her and felt her nipples harden.  Lust fired in his veins when she moaned low in her throat and arched towards him.  He tilted her head to the side and trailed hot, wet kisses down her throat then closed his mouth over her breast. 

             
Emma shuddered and lifted the hem of his shirt.  He helped her pull it off, and she ran her hands up his chest.  She clasped her hands around his neck and he took her mouth again and again.   

             
Jack growled as he cupped her bottom and pulled her against him.  His heat and hardness pulsed through Emma’s jeans and she palmed the length of him before she reached for his fly. 

“I want you so bad,” she slurred as she began to pull down the zipper.  “It’s been such a long time.”

              Her slurred speech registered and Jack stepped back.  Emma looked confused and reached for him again.  He caught her hands.

             
“Emma, love, stop.  Our first time shouldn’t be like this.”

             
“What d’ya mean?”

             
“You’ve had a bit much to drink, darling.  I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

             
Emma frowned, hurt flashing in her eyes.  “You don’t want me?”

             
“I want you very much, so much that I’m aching.  But I don’t want you to be sorry for it in the morning.  I care too much, Emma, to take you like this.”

             
Emma understood some of what he was saying, even through the alcohol haze.  She nodded and pulled away.  “I understand,” she whispered.  “I’m so sorry.”  She stumbled as she turned away.

             
Jack caught her before she hit the floor.  He cursed under his breath as he carried her to her bed.  He took off her shoes and slid her jeans down her legs.  He gulped and felt himself harden again when he saw the triangle of matching red lace she wore.

             
He couldn’t decide if he was being a fool or a gentleman.

             
“I’m sorry,” Emma said again as he slipped her between the sheets.  “Are we still good?”

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